


And Everything Fell Apart

by GalaxyBrownies



Series: The Story of UNDERTALE [1]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Babybones, Child Murder, Fluff, Gaster - Freeform, Papyrus - Freeform, Sadness, Sans - Freeform, Toriel - Freeform, Underground, asgore - Freeform, asrielbirth, beforetheunderground, but it actually isn’t Asgore this time, like seriously I just want to see the sun, sealedunderground, skelebro creation, skelebros, spooky scary skeletons - Freeform, still dead children though, thewar, undertale - Freeform, wdgaster, why so many dead children in undertale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-15 15:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12324063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyBrownies/pseuds/GalaxyBrownies
Summary: The story of life before the war and events leading up to and during it. Then, the final chain of events leading to the imprisonment Underground.





	1. Child Murder and Other Generally Unpleasant Articles

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like the story!! My beta readers did!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monsters are trapped underground, suffering, etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment!!! it keeps me thriving!!!

Ebott. North America, 1567.

The humans were vaguely aware that they weren't alone. They knew somewhere in their collective subconscious that monsters lived somewhere near the large mountain that loomed over their small village. It wasn't until the first death on both sides that they realized the true magnitude of the other’s presence. The humans had known that the King and Queen of Monsters were terrifying, tall, demonic, and horned, yet they were peaceful, and the humans had begrudgingly accepted that they wouldn't call for an attack on the colonists’ meager population. The Englishmen knew that it wasn't the goat monsters’ faults.

But no one cared any longer. The deed had been done.

 

 

The morning previous, everything had seemed normal in the small monster settlement. Though colonists from some other kingdom had come to claim land as their own couple years back, it didn't affect the monsters much. The monsters were so little, just a couple hundred in number, and could all live comfortably at the base of the mountain. _Their_ mountain. Originating from North America, monsters hadn't come into contact with any of the human species, even the natives, until the so-called “English” had arrived. Humans were lucky the monsters could speak and understand any language due to their magic, or either side may have attacked. It seemed a miracle they hadn't already, actually. King Asgore had heard that the native peoples of this land were being horribly persecuted, and he was glad that for now, at least, he and his people were being left well enough alone.

His home was being used as an orphanage of sorts. He and his wife housed stray monster children, created by a random coalescence of magic, as well as abandoned human children. When they had found the humans, they were so small and thin. A couple were sick, or showed signs of physical trauma. He didn't ask. And he wasn't told. Asgore was content for the moment being, however. He had a feeling that if the humans knew where the children were, even though they had been rejected and starved, they would attempt to take them back. He had an odd feeling in his SOUL that if the humans did take those nine children back, they would end up abandoned and wandering in the snowy forest again anyway. He couldn't have that. Toriel would dust him for sure.

He shook his head sharply to clear his head of these thoughts, horns barely scraping the ceiling of the room he was in. No need to think such dark thoughts. He turned his attention back towards his reports. Yes, the guards stationed on the east side of Ebott had found another new monster child. They would be put up for adoption, but if not claimed, be taken in by himself. Nothing much else was interesting. One of his dogs in the guard had “sniffed a particularly nice smelling deer”, but that was about it. Honestly, he didn't know why he didn't just fire those dogs, but Toriel insisted they stay.

It seemed Toriel made many of his judgment calls for him. 

His attention was diverted from his work as a guard entered the room.

“Sir,” the guard began, breathing heavily. They looked as if they had run here, “There's… there's another human child.” They pointed vaguely outside of his window toward the trees. “The royal scientist and his brother are bringing them.”

“Very well,” Asgore nodded. He stepped forward to leave the room, accidentally bumping the guard aside as he did.

As he left, he saw that the twin humans he had found a year ago were causing mischief again in the next room over. There was a bucket dangling precariously over the door, wavering slightly. Asgore jumps back.

“Alex. John. You did not intend to dump that bucket of water on my head, correct?” Asgore asked. 

John hid his hands behind his back, tossing his red curls back and forth. Looking at the floor, he bit his lip, prompting his brother to speak for him.

“O-of course not M-Mr. Dreemur,” The smaller boy stuttered. He seemed to be squinting. If he could recall, Alex had been doing that a lot lately. Perhaps he should look into purchasing glasses for the boy.

Asgore chortled knowingly, and the boys looked reassured. He held out a large paw to muss the younger one’s hair, and boomed,

“Just do not allow Toriel to see you. Have fun, children.” He left the room, and stepped outside into the cool morning air. He breathed in deeply, savoring the fresh air, which was so different than the air inside his stuffy office, where the fireplace roared, or from the hustle and bustle of the crowded castle. He should take the other human children out today, it was nice enough. It would help Lara’s asthma, and Tommy would be able to burn off some of his excess energy, and spare Toriel from another broken end table.

He eyed his favorite tree, and moved to take a seat under it. A cool breeze floated through the leaves, refreshing. He would wait for the human here. He closed his eyes, remembering the humans he had taken in so far. First had been Lara, three years ago. She was twelve now, an unbelievable fact. Next was a smaller girl, Peggy. She was still incredibly withdrawn, and didn’t talk much. Then was that bundle of energy, Tommy. He never rested for a second. Just a week later Tommy’s sister had also been found, after Tommy had pestered them enough to send out search parties. That had been Anna. Asgore was glad they had found her. She looked to be on her last legs. Then the twins a year ago. Same as always. Two girls, best friends, a couple months after, names Lacy and Rebecca, and finally Andrew, the smallest, two months ago. He looked to be only five years of age at the most.

Suddenly, Asgore’s thoughts were interrupted by a piercing scream that cut through the air, long and sustained, before finally clipping off before it reached its end. The sound was terrifying in its length. Startled, Asgore took off in a sprint in the general direction he had heard the shriek from. Stumbling into a clearing, he came upon a horrific sight. His head buzzed with the images in front of him, mouth numb. He saw the royal scientist, a pile of dust, and… and…

“Gaster, w-what have you done?” Asgore stuttered. The scientist seemed to glow with a strange light. He floated an inch above the ground, toes skimming the grass slightly. He almost looked regal, an effect lessened by the fact that he was floating next to a dead child.

“He...he killed my brother,” the skeleton began defensively, tears beginning to form in his eye sockets, “He killed my brother!”

The light continued to glow from behind his white coat. It was red, and pulsated as if alive. A human SOUL. He had taken the child’s SOUL.

Asgore shook his head, backing away in revulsion. Gaster stepped forward, attempting to speak.

“It’s-it’s okay, see? He can’t hurt us now. My brother is avenged. Everything will be fine. We can fix this!” He seemed confident, which terrified Asgore even more. 

Something else stepped into the clearing at that moment. Another human. The human rushed forward and fell at the child’s body, burying its head in the child’s chest. His back heaved.

“No...no!” The human cried, cradling the child, “You killed my _son_! We were just out hunting, he wanted to see the village, he just… he just…” the broken man held the child closer, and looked around wildly before focusing on the scientist with venom in his eyes. Asgore had never seen a human so outraged, so betrayed-looking in his life.

“You have his SOUL. I can see it through your coat. Give it back! You don’t deserve it!”

He dropped his son and lunged at Gaster, brandishing his rifle. Gaster flicked him away with his enhanced magic, as easily if he were a rag doll. The man hit a tree with a sickening crunch, his back arching supernaturally, and slumped over, lifeless.

The clearing fell silent. The weight of three deaths suddenly dropping on both monsters’ shoulders. Gaster bent down, taking off a red scarf and using it to collect his brother’s dust carefully. He touched down on the ground, and left the clearing. No one made a sound.

Asgore was too shocked to stop him.

—————

By the time the king had made it back to the castle, he was shaking so hard he wasn’t sure he could hold a teacup properly, or even if he had the (metaphorical) stomach for it. He was cradling the two dead humans in his large arms, their thick blood staining his white tunic. He grimaced even more than he already was.  
He saw one of his guards near the entrance, lazily looking over before his face filled with alarm. He rushed over, crushing the grass beneath his boots.  
“Your majesty! What… what happened?”  
Asgore held up a palm to silence him and frantically told him to take all the children to the back of the castle where none of the horrors would be witnessed. He then asked if Gaster had come inside the castle.  
“Yes, sire. He looked strange… he was glowing a strange color, slightly floating. Is that normal for skeletons?” The guard obviously couldn’t recognize that the color was red, a symptom of being a dog.  
“No,” Asgore curtly replied before pushing past the monster and into his home. 

It seemed like ages before he finally reached his throne room. If there was one place Gaster would have gone, it was there. He may be careless at times, but his moral integrity was strong and he would be awaiting his justice.  
Just as he had thought, the scientist was hovering near the throne, head in hands.  
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I got caught up in the moment, and I know that isn’t an excuse. The child… we thought he was another abandoned human, so we attempted to bring him here to be taken care of. Some of the others struggled, so we thought it was normal… then he swung at Arial in his fear and with his intent to harm he… he…” For the first time in his life, Asgore was seeing his dear friend cry. On any other time than this, he would rush over and comfort his friend, but now he could only watch as Gaster’s mental state crumbled.  
Asgore gently laid the humans down on his grassy throne room floor, yellow flowers pushing up around them. This was the one room in his castle where flowers were allowed to grow, warm sunlight pouring in from the windows. The flowers almost covered the large stains of blood on the humans, they were so numerous and tall, and the child and his father looked as if they could be sleeping. If only they were.  
“You need to let the child’s SOUL go. Let him move on, at least.”

Gaster nodded, and seemed to be concentrating before gasping in pain. His eyes screwed up as much as they could (he was a skeleton after all) and he explained the pain.

“Getting r-rid of a SOUL while it is merged with yours takes-” he hissed in pain, “effort, and may damage your own SOUL in the process. As it is, I will n-n-not be able to remove all traces of determination from myself, especially because of the SOUL type I absorbed.” He seems to be able to barely be able to get the words out, but pushes through the pain.

He doubles over further, screeching with the agony of the sins crawling on his back, and the king started towards him, but Gaster held a hand up to stop him and slowly stood back up straight, pulling his hands away from his chest and cupping a floating red heart in his hands. He looked up, and Asgore knew that the sight before him, once again, wouldn’t be forgotten quickly. The scientist had two sickly cracks from his eyes, one going up, one going down. Damage indeed.  
As he watched, Gaster winced in pain. The light coming from the SOUL began to burn his hands. He attempted to let it go, but there it stayed, seemingly intent on permanently harming him. Asgore again attempted to come near him, but was given a grim look that told him to stay back. He watched in horror as a beam of red light, looking as sharp as a blade, began to peek through the bone in his hands, slicing them clean through. Within the minute the light had burned holes in his hands as the skeleton screamed in pain, desperately trying to shake it off. When the holes were around one or two inches in diameter on both hands, the SOUL stopped burning and flew into the air, then vanished. The child had punished his killer well enough.  
It was astonishing to think that just ten or fifteen minutes before the scientist had been healthy and whole, but was now currently crippled physically and mentally.  
Asgore knew there would be severe punishments for the transpired events of the morning, but for now, at least, the king would attend to his friend. He thought that the pain the SOUL had caused to Gaster had been punishment enough for his sins, for the time being.

When the human village discovered what happened, there were riots in the streets. A respectable member of society and his son, dead, killed by a monster close to the king himself. And, as they could see, the monster was not even being held on trial or punished in any known way.  
The humans were furious, as was their right. They knew, however that their mother country would never spring for all out war, and it wouldn’t be necessary anyway, as the monsters were so few in number.  
In the day following the incident, the humans hadn’t known much, but within the week rumors were quickly circulating that the monster had taken the child’s SOUL. They hadn’t previously thought it possible, but the concept was terrifying. Mothers began to tell terrifying tales to their children about the big bad monster king who would come to take their SOUL. The village decided unanimously to wage their own kind of war against the monsters, as retribution for their lost people. They weren’t aware of the loss of the skeleton known as Arial, nor would they have cared if they had known.

The monsters fought hard, but the humans even harder. In the end, the war itself was short lived. It lasted only two weeks in total, even though it should have carried on longer. All of the monsters’ carefully thought out plans were instantly foiled, almost as if the humans knew what they were about to do before they did it. And at the head of every battle was a woman wreathed in red light, seeming so determined she might burst from it all. Every fight that she led seemed to be accompanied by deja vu, strangely, though obviously they hadn’t fought before.  
It was confusing as all hell. Headaches often accompanied these battles, as well as the feeling that they were collectively forgetting something.

It didn’t matter anymore though. The humans won. The final battle was fought in the monster village itself, where they surrendered just to stop the slaughter of their kind. All the skeletons had been targeted with a vengeance, and all but one were dead. The royal scientist still lived, due to him still having to recover from his injuries and not being on the battle field. All in all, only around sixty monsters in all still lived, out of the three hundred or so original population.  
The humans were merciless. They cut down mothers and children just as much as the actual warriors. The human children adopted by the King and Queen were torn from their new home and returned to an orphanage where they would be as abused as before, though the monster orphans they had been raising were kept with the monsters. It broke his heart to watch the children cry as they were torn from Toriel’s arms, futilely reaching out as they disappeared from sight.  
And with dread, the War ended. The king and queen thought it was over. The humans, however, disagreed.

—————

The third Monday after the War ended was the appointed date. The humans would corral and force all monsters under the very mountain that shadowed their village, never to return.

The morning air was crisp and cool, but not refreshing, as it should have been. Fear and worry permeated the air, ruining what otherwise would have been an excellent day. Asgore supposed that to the humans it was an excellent day. They had been looking for a reason to get rid of the monsters since they arrived, and now the humans had the perfect excuse, not that Asgore could deny it. A child was dead… his mind violently rejected the very idea of quenching an innocent life such as that. He could never, ever even think of doing something like that. How had he…

The royal scientist slouched in the middle of the crowd, head hung low, looking for all the world like he wanted to shrink in on himself and disappear. He clung to himself tightly, and the only possession he was bringing was a red bundle, the scarf, which held his brother’s dust. Every other monster was lugging as much as they could carry- they would have absolutely nothing except what naturally occurred under the mountain- but Gaster seemed content to suffer with nothing but the sins crawling on his back.

He looked away from Gaster for a moment towards his wife. She so rarely cried, but the tears were streaming down her face today, rolling down like pebbles down a hill then finally dropping to the ground. She stayed silent however, and Asgore wrapped his arms around her middle and gave her a gentle squeeze. She wrapped her arms around his back in turn and reciprocated the hug.

She looked like she wanted to say something, but words were beyond them both at the moment, and in Asgore’s case, most may come out in a stream of words that shouldn’t be said in polite company. It was funny. Most people seemed to assume he never swore. It seemed that despite his size and strength, he would never be seen as a purely strong and logical leader. He would always be the big fluffy pushover that he knew his people saw him as. Especially now. Maybe if he had buckled down and gathered a few human SOULs during the war, he could have-

“Stop that.” Toriel was looking at him sharply.

“Stop...what?” Asgore tilted his head, almost comically. He hadn’t done anything.

“I can tell that the thoughts in your head are self deprecating. Stop. It serves no one, especially not one such as yourself, to so openly show your regret. No one would have benefited from more death. No one.” It seemed she could read Asgore’s mind.

“How...how?” It was all he could do not to cry then and I there.

Toriel have a tight nod. “I am your wife. It would be unwise not to learn how to read you,” she smiled a little, “besides, you look straight at the ground, and you get a little crease between your eyes when you think of matters such as this. You are not hard to read, Fluffybuns.”

Asgore nearly snorted at the use of his nickname. He hadn’t known he was so easy to read. He supposed he would have to work on that in the future.

Toriel was looking nowhere in particular again. She seemed to be dazed, having only briefly snapped out of it to console her husband. She seemed to be unable to take her own advice, but Asgore couldn’t bring himself to chastise her for it. 

The crowd shuffled forward a couple feet. As King and Queen, Asgore and Toriel would hold the back, making sure no monsters fled the pressing of the human crowd forcing them into their prison. Stars knew he wanted to let them, to cry out ‘Run’, to grab the children and hoist them on his shoulders and leave, leave forever. To find the human children that had been taken back, and were probably now just as mistreated as they were before. To take them to wherever the monsters fled to, and live in peace.

However, the humans had promised death to any fleeing monster. They had demonstrated this as well. Near the beginning of the march into the mountain, a small monster child had attempted to run into the forest. Asgore didn’t have time to stop the poor thing, and watched in horror as a human stepped out from behind a tree and slashed the boy to dust. He didn’t hear or see any parents in the crowd, so he assumed it was one of the aimless children. He may have even housed him himself. He didn’t know. There had been too many monster children to count in his orphanage, contrasting the comparatively small number of humans he cared for. And anyways, Toriel had always been the main caretaker. She probably would have known the child.

So King Asgore kept his silence. He did not move to encourage his people to rebel against the pressing force of the humans. God, he could feel the hundreds of buzzing SOULs behind him, hot, and electrifying. How humans lived with such a power inside them, he didn’t know. The monsters continued their trodding march onwards. More than half of the remaining population was in the mountain. It wouldn’t take as long as it would have if they had had their original number. So many had died. There were perhaps four or five dozen monsters left in total. So many had died. The king felt his chest tighten up, felt his eyes sting, and stopped himself.

You will not cry in front of your people and the humans. Your people need strength, and the humans must never see you break, He told himself. _You will not cry, you will not cry, you will not cry, you will not-_

“Asgore.”

That snapped him out of his daze, and he saw Toriel was once again looking at him.

In his trance he hadn’t noticed that he had crossed into the mountain. Luckily the barrier wasn’t put up, but it nearly was, slowly spiraling out from the hands of seven humans. He watched as it slowly covered the cave mouth, darkening the cavern within as the sun’s rays futilely attempted to break through the gray wall. The humans disappeared behind it. The trees were starting to become covered. Now the sky was just a sliver, just a small bit, and he bet that if he ran, he could catch it, grab onto it, because why had they taken this for granted, why had he not fully appreciated the fresh air and cool breeze and the stars. He hadn’t watched the last sunset the night before, and he was deeply regretting it.

He heard a whimper from his side and saw that Toriel was crying again. He enveloped her in a tight embrace as he finally allowed himself to cry, and the wall was complete.

T H E B A R R I E R W A S S E A L E D .

All at once, as one, the dozens of monsters ran at the barrier, screaming, crying, pounding their fists (or approximation of fists) against the gleaming, solid gray shield. They called for someone to help, anyone.

 

But nobody came.


	2. Oh Yay, Suffering!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Underground is colonized, Gaster gets taken care of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plz comment! It keeps me thriving!

The clamor only began to die many hours after the last splotch of blue was blotted out from their view. Dragging leaden limbs, bruised from the futile assault on the wall barring them from the sun, the monsters plodded around the cavern, feeling the walls. Some began to simply talk amongst themselves in worried voices.

“I can’t believe-“  
“Will I ever see the sun-“  
“My daughter died in the-“  
“I think I’m falling down, can you-“  
“Who will save us? Are we going to be here forever, why?”

Then the talk began to take a turn for the worse, and Asgore could hardly blame the crowd for the direction the whispers were taking.

“I can’t believe he just let it-“  
“Our king is not strong at all, he’s-“  
“He should have just killed-“  
“King Asgore should just disappear.”

The king hung his large head low, allowing a few moments to collect himself before raising his head and clearing his throat. Toriel squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Attention, all. Attention.” he took a deep breath, finding it difficult to find the right words to say. What could you say after that?

“The humans have sealed us underground.”

Some brave soul in the audience called out, “No shit!”

Asgore held up a fluffy paw to silence the monster that had spoken out. 

“The barrier will only be broken with the power of seven human SOULs,” he continued, despite the interruption, “I do not intend to harm any humans, despite this condition. However,” he began to speed up his speech, attempting rouse any sort of hope he could, “this does not mean that we shall roll over and die. We will come back from this stronger than before.” He paused, as if waiting for someone to initiate the round of booing that wild finally cause him to shrivel up and die. No one did.

“We will push forward. It is my intention to see how far this cavern stretches. All those who are able should follow, if you are unable, you may stay to begin a town here.” With that, his speech was over. He already felt exhausted. Toriel saw this, and took it upon herself to organize the already chattering crowd into groups. 

A day and a half later, Asgore, Toriel, and their enormous party finally reached the end of the cavern. Almost all the monsters had chosen to come with them. No one particularly wanted to be anywhere close to the barrier. It seemed to pulse with an unnatural light, producing a strange sound. It was… unsettling to be around. The monsters were interesting to watch at this time. They clung to each other like they would be ripped apart at any moment, refusing to be apart from each other for long. No wonder most of the population had followed. He felt his breath hitch and knew he had to stop these thoughts. _You must not cry._

The end of the cavern was small, but quaint. It had an almost purple tone to it, and green vines climbed the walls, stretching towards a tall ceiling. It seemed that this place had once been a small human settlement, and that they had left to accommodate the monsters’ entrapment. There were destroyed pillars and debris everywhere, like the humans had wanted to eradicate anything that may help the monsters to survive. As he continued to explore, he saw that the last room in the cavern had a ceiling that stretched far up above. If he looked closely, he could almost see the sky. Perhaps they could climb out? But was that…

There was a thinner version of the barrier spanning from wall to wall halfway down the drop, effectively cutting off any hope for escape through the top. It probably also lined the walls of the great mountain, creating a dome to prevent them from drilling or digging their way out. Theoretically, a human could fall down, as the barrier didn’t prevent anything from entering, just leaving, and be used towards the seven SOUL requirement that the humans had instated. But, no. That could never happen. _You must not cry you must not cry._

He turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The people were asking for a name to call this place, this ground that they were trapped under, as well as this ruined city. Perhaps the Underground and the Ruins? Honestly, he was horrible at naming things. On the surface, the village that they had all lived in was simply called “Monster Village”. Hmmph. Well, he thought the people may not think that a place called “the Ruins” was very inviting, so perhaps there could be a second name. A friendly name. Home. Another easy name, but good nonetheless. _You must not cry._

He turned to get the names put on paper. Eventually, when things were settled, he would have to send out parties to settle the other three regions that had passed through on the way to Home. There was that hot land, and then a place with many water falls, and a place where only the fuzziest monsters could live, as they would almost always be snowed in. He shrugged his shoulders and picked up a pencil again.

Those were as good a name as any.

 

So it was official. The monsters were trapped in the Underground, living in the Ruins, which was (reluctantly) called Home, and he would send out parties to Snowdin, Waterfall, and Hotland in a month or two. He stifled a laugh. It seemed ridiculous to think that he was beginning to be used to this.

He heard a sob from the next cavern, and immediately stood up to see what was happening. When he entered the next room, he saw his wife curled up and crying in their makeshift shelter. Preparations were being made to build a house for them to live in, as both Toriel and Asgore had agreed to take up residence in Home, but construction took time, especially when those that would be doing the building were emotionally compromised. 

“What is wrong, Tori?” Asgore walked over to his wife and knelt down to her curled-up level. He chuckled. “I suppose that was a stupid question.” He held out a paw to help her up, and she brushed off her dress. 

“I suppose it just hit me all at once… ha… ha…” her voice cracked, “just knowing, I will never see the sun again, see the smiles on those children’s faces… it’s just so…” she clutched at her arm with the other and looked towards the ground, “heartbreaking to think about.” _You must not cry you must not cry you must not cry_

__

__

_You must not cry_

_You must not cry_

_You must not cry_

_You must not..._

_You must..._

_You..._

And with that, Asgore lost any stoic facade that he had been able to keep up since they had arrived in the Ruins. He grabbed his wife in a crushing embrace, and she felt his tears hit and roll off her dress. She quickly returned the affection, and let loose some more tears of her own.

They stayed like that until they were found by the Royal Guard six hours later, having not moved from that position and the tears still flowing freely.

—————

 

By the third month of their imprisonment, two more areas of the Underground had been colonized. Snowdin and Waterfall had rudimentary towns, but they seemed to be doing well enough. Snowdin was mostly inhabited by furry monsters, and the town was incredibly homely and cozy. Asgore had taken a trip there a couple times already, and while he was covered in fur, he still found it somewhat chilly and resolved to bring a coat next time.  
A more surprising event occurred when Asgore was on his second trip and found W.D. Gaster hauling wood to a more deserted stretch of path.

“Why are you carrying so much wood, my friend? Here, let me help you,” Asgore offered, but the royal scientist merely shook his head and boosted the wood up to his hip- it had been slipping.

“No, I’m nearly there. I’m going to be building a home. I have decided to settle here, as the cold will not bother me due to my lack of skin.” He again boosted the wood up to his hip as it started to trail back down to the ground. Unfortunately, the boost hit a small red bundle attached to his belt on the way up, which knocked it loose. Asgore watched as the bundle fell and sprung open, and Gaster immediately dropped the wood to kneel at the cloth, pushing its contents back into the fabric and knotting the fabric back together. He closely examined the ground again to see if he had missed anything, then turned towards Asgore.

“Actually, perhaps it would be best if you helped me,” he amended his previous statement, looking embarrassed, “I don’t want to lose… this,” he gestured towards the red… scarf?

Asgore felt his metaphorical heart settle in his stomach. That was Gaster’s brother’s dust. That’s right, he remembered now. The memories had blurred together, everything had happened so quickly, but the king distinctly remembered that Gaster had wrapped the dust in his trademark scarf.

The royal scientist cleared his throat and Asgore realized he was staring. He shook his head to clear the thoughts, and picked up more than half of the wood in the stack. They began to walk in the general direction of his soon-to-be house.

“Are you sure you do not wish to settle in Hotland when the time comes? That is where the castle will be built, and the labs will be near the entrance to the area, due to the lava being able to generate the electricity needed. You will have to walk through Waterfall every day to get there if you settle here,” Asgore said, befuddled.

Gaster looked down, rubbing the back of his skull with a holed hand. 

“Yes… um, well, I was meaning to speak to you about this, but… I will not be continuing my duties as royal scientist. The title no longer belongs to me,” he spoke quietly, reluctantly. Asgore could tell he was forcing the words out- he didn’t want to say them. The king shook his head softly, chuckling lightly.

“You blame yourself for the mess we are in. Please, my friend, do not. You may have killed the humans, but the child did attack first. Don’t misunderstand, this is not permission to kill on a regular basis,” he laughed hesitantly, “but I will not be accepting your resignation. There is still work to be down here, and you should be a part of it.”

Gaster looked relieved. It was actually kind of funny. He quickly masked his relieved expression and forced a concerned look. 

“Are you sure? I mean, there are probably more qualified monsters than me at this point, and the fact that I am not exactly widely loved anymore will not inspire the obedience of any lab assistants I may acquire. And, there is the fact that-” 

“You are the most intellectually gifted monster in the Underground. You are exactly what we need for this. Your task: find a way to break the barrier without needing the deaths of humans. As for obedience, simply leave it to me. I am The King,” Gaster could _hear_ the capital letters, “and people tend to listen to what I say.”

At his assignment, the royal scientist took on a strange look almost… Determined? He nodded sharply and turned back to the plot of land he had designated for his house.

“Thank you, your majesty. I will not disappoint you.”

Asgore resisted the impulse to place a comforting paw on the skeleton’s head.

“I know. Will you still live here?”

Gaster nodded the affirmative, and left on his way, signaling the conversation’s end. 

 

His trips to Waterfall had been less eventful. It had mostly consisted of meetings with the royal guard, and separate meetings with the captain, a large, lion-like monster who honestly, intimidated even Asgore.

He did not particularly like Waterfall. It was damp, and smelled faintly of mold (a new type of monster had even formed due to the presence of the substance, he would need to name it later. He was toying with “Moldsmall”, but he needed a second opinion). Every time he went there, his socks got wet, and that was annoying. He found a new type of flower, it was blue, and made whatever you spoke echo throughout the caverns. The Echo Flower. He cursed himself for his poor naming ability. Unfortunately, the flower didn’t make very good tea. It was extremely sour and the taste wouldn’t go away for hours, no matter what he ate or drank after, so it was pretty much useless.

Toriel had accompanied him once. She, in contrast to himself, had rather liked Waterfall, much more than she had Snowdin. No one had really been paying much attention to their surroundings on the trek from the Barrier to Home, so the experiences were still relatively new. She liked to sit by the rushing water, but never put her feet in. She had tried it once, but yelped due to the cold temperature. The water was melted snow from Snowdin, as the heat from Hotland carried over enough to melt it along the edges of the bank that ran through the entire cavern.

Toriel looked so beautiful by the Echo Flower’s light (maybe it wasn’t so useless after all), the blue shining on her white furred face as the soft breeze blew across the river. She seemed so deep in thought that he thought she would never stand up again. Nevertheless, like clockwork, she would snap out of it, and keep walking. She did seem to be enjoying herself. He was seeing the first true smiles she had worn since coming down here- ones put on in front of crowds didn’t count- and he was happier for it, wearing more smiles of his own.

Perhaps life in the Underground would be liveable after all.

 

—————

Hotland was an interesting experience. Toriel flat out refused to visit, explaining that she did not enjoy the hot temperature, and would bear it only when the castle was completed and she and Asgore would move in. Then, and only then, would she allow herself to travel within the area. Asgore mused that she must have forgotten that to get to her favorite area, Waterfall, she would have to travel through Hotland when going both ways, but stayed silent. That was an argument for another day. Asgore rubbed his eyes as he walked to the half-constructed laboratory. He needed a day off.

Asgore could see why his wife disliked Hotland. For furred monsters like themselves, Hotland was extremely unpleasant to navigate. Five minutes walking around would cause sweat to stick their fur together and begin to seep through. Ten, and their flesh would begin to significantly redden and would begin to glow through the white fur, though they didn’t have blood to make them so red. Magic, yay. An hour, and you would feel ready to pass out. Asgore felt lucky that he was only traveling through, and not working there, like Gaster and his lab assistants were. While the royal scientist himself was fine with the temperature, due to his lack of any flesh to detect heat (or cold, for that matter), he had several lab assistants with some sort of furry covering, whether it was over their entire bodies or just part of it. He felt terrible for them, and resigned to place the laboratory close to the entrance to the area instead of directly under the castle, as he had originally intended. That would be less for them all to travel, especially for Gaster, seeing as he was set to have a home in Snowdin. Arriving at the lab, Asgore sat down on the slightly uncomfortably warm ground, his cloak and other clothing protecting him from the heat that would otherwise burn him.

Even though the laboratory was still in construction, Gaster was already furiously working anyway. He had taken readings of the barrier several times, and seemed immensely confused that it gave off no electrical feedback whatsoever. The ability to harness electricity was, thankfully, not an ability the humans had known, and not one the monsters had divulged before being trapped. Monsters had discovered how to manufacture light bulbs and other useful objects like that a decade ago, aided by magic, and figured that humans would discover the wonders eventually, in their own time. 

Asgore snapped himself out of his train of thought, and continued to watch his friend work. He looked as exhausted as Asgore was. Half a year in the underground had passed since the day he had assigned the scientist’s task, and the man hadn’t taken a single day off. He hadn’t even spent a day working less intensely than normal. He flung himself around the half-built lab at such a speed and ferocity that he thought the poor skeleton would crumble into dust then and there. He supposed he should have informed Gaster of the need to stay healthy, but he seemed reinvigorated by his work, no longer as hollow as he had looked at the time of the barrier’s creation and the weeks after. The red scarf remained attached to his hip, more tightly secured now and wrapped with another piece of fabric, strengthening the hold.

The bundle of cloth was mesmerizing, swinging back and forth as the scientist moved. Asgore found himself transfixed by the bundle, the monotonous movement transfixing him into a stupor. He found himself falling asleep and jerked his head up from the position it was slowly falling into. It would be rude to fall asleep while his friend was working so hard.

Gaster finally hit a stopping point, and walked over to meet the king. Asgore stood up, brushing off the red dust that had transferred from the ground to his cloak. 

“Erm… hello, sire,” Gaster gave a half bow, jerky in its execution. “I was not expecting you here today.”

“Yes, I decided to visit. You need to take a break my friend,” Asgore replies, placing a furry paw on the skeleton’s shoulder, “you are whipping around so quickly you could power the whole underground with just your movement.” He chuckled weakly. “Come to Waterfall. Toriel and I are to picnic there today. When was the last time you ate?”

Gaster opened his mouth to speak, but when Asgore clarified, “Not just coffee,” he abruptly shut it with a clack.

Asgore laughed again, full on this time, and pressed a paw to the back of Gaster’s lab coat, lightly pushing him to walk with him. 

“Yes, we should eat. Come along. I insisted Toriel pack you something to eat as well, despite her statements that you would refuse.”

Gaster looked as if he _did_ want to refuse, and moved to push away the king’s arm. 

“Sorry, I can’t, I have to-”

He was cut off when Asgore picked him up under his great arm and carried him easily. Gaster wouldn’t get out of a home cooked meal that easily.

“Let’s go,” he said happily, as if this was quite normal.

Gaster groaned like this was the last thing he wanted to do, but his small smile that he tried to hide said otherwise. He didn’t even look back at the lab as it slowly shrunk away. 

 

Riding under Asgore’s arm turned out less fun than originally thought. His large steps were jarring and Gaster had to reach up to correct his glasses several times before simply taking them off altogether. He wouldn’t need them at the moment. Every step made his bones rattle, and after a while he asked the king to let him down. He had looked confused for a second, before he seemed to realize that he was still carrying the man.

“Oh! Oh, right,” He exclaimed, and gently set Gaster down, who replaced his glasses on his face and straightened his lab coat.

“We are almost there anyways,” Asgore declared, “just another room or so.”

Just another room, it was, and they found Toriel smoothing out a blanket next to a basket. She gently greeted the pair, seemingly surprised at Gaster’s presence, before handing Asgore 5g. 

“I guess you win…” she sighed softly, though she seemed not very disappointed.

Gaster thought this was hilarious and actually broke out into laughter.

“You...you made a bet on whether or not I would come?” He seemed incredulous. He was now bent over, wheezing. It was several seconds before he stood up, wiping his eyes. “I suppose I was working too hard.”

Asgore and Toriel looked sheepish on being found out. Asgore found himself secretly beaming inside.  
That was the first time Asgore had seen Gaster laugh since the day of his brother’s death.

And they ate.


	3. Adorable Fluffy Goat Monsters Send Shivers Down Your Spine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This marks the appearance of the first sweater sibling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short transition chapter. Please comment! It keeps me thriving!

It was hundreds of years before much of note happened. Over two centuries, in fact. Due to the lengthened life span of monsters, the population was about the same, having grown some due to new children being formed, but older monsters not dying like humans would. 

It was very monotonous. Wake up. Walk the castle. Make tea. Kiss the wife. Visit the lab. Force Gaster to eat something. Walk the rest of the underground. Stop at Home. Rest. Visit the hole in the last room of the cavern. Rest. Walk back to the castle, which was now named New Home. Their home in the Ruins was being used as the orphanage, though any monster could stay there at any time, and even the King and Queen were guilty of sleeping there a couple times.

And this was life for those two hundred years. Though the labs _liked_ to say they were making progress, that wasn’t true. They _had_ created a Core, something to power the entire Underground with, directly below the castle, but that did nothing to further their ultimate objective. Gaster had tried once to blow out the barrier by hooking the Core up to it with electrical wiring, but only succeeded in causing a massive blackout throughout the entire Underground that lasted for five weeks. That wasn’t fun at all.

They were making some technological improvements, however. The video camera had been produced some fifty years ago, and the cell phone had been created around a decade past. Life was good, but would be better if they were on the surface. At least here, they had good friends, good food, and bad laughs. 

Asgore was exhausted, his usual state. He rolled over to go to sleep, flinging an arm around his wife as she snored. She was so beautiful, even like this. He soon found himself drifting off, until finally, he was asleep.

 

He found himself being jostled awake gently, in what seemed like an instant, though he had been asleep so there was no telling. He blearily opened his eyes and focused on a shape in front of him, barely visible in the darkness. Toriel?

“Pssst,” He bears her hiss, “Gorey, wake up.”

Asgore responds, voice low and gravely, bumping slightly and catching off guard,

“Mmm? What is it, Dear?” He then sees that she is holding something in her paw, and adds “...err, and why do you have that video camera?”

Suddenly her paw rushes up over his mouth and quiets him.

“Shush! I want to get your reaction.” She pauses, and clears her throat. “Gorey, dearest. What is my favorite vegetable?”

In his hazy mind, Asgore reaches for the best available answer.

“Hmmm… carrots, right?”

This was apparently the incorrect answer, as his wife bursts out into a fit of giggles.

“No, no, no! My favorite vegetable is…” she suppresses another giggle, “Eda-MOM-e.” She pauses, seemingly waiting for something, before saying “... get it?”

No one says anything until Asgore sighs,

“Go back to bed, dear.” He rolls over again heavily, and closes his eyes, already beginning to snore. His precious sleep is interrupted once again when he feels his wife pushing her paws against his back to face her again.

“No, no! Not yet!” She giggles yet again. “Now, if I were a dog, what breed of dog would I be?” Great, she’s testing him again. This time he admits ignorance.

“Hmm… I don’t know, honey. What kind of dog would you be?”

She gets quieter, replying,

“I would be… a MOMeranian!” She full on laughs this time, a joyous sound to hear.

Asgore thinks he knows what this is about, now. He chuckles softly.

“You sure are excited to have this child…” he says knowingly. “You know, if you keep making jokes like this…” he begins to cook up a joke of his own, “one day, you could be…” Here it comes. Asgore knows she’ll love this. “... a famous MOMedian.”

He stops, mouth still slightly agape, waiting for the onslaught of laughter he knows will surely follow.

It doesn’t.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” his wife sighs.

“Hey!” Asgore shouts indignantly, “Come on, Tori! That one was funny!” He fails to keep his false anger going, ending his statement with a laugh.

Toriel chortles, probably the thousandth time she’s laughed that evening, and replies,

“I know. I am just teasing you. Goodnight, dear.” She rolls over on her side for good.

“Goodnight, honey.” Finally, he would get his long needed sleep. He is on the edge of falling back asleep, before Toriel realizes something and completely wakes him up again. 

“Oh dear, perhaps it is too dark in here for the video to come out…” He hears a beeping noise, probably her ending the video, before he nods into his pillow and drifts off.

 

It was nearly two years before his child was brought into the world, and _stars_ , did he have lungs. That kid could scream and holler and bleat for days if he wanted to. Monsters took longer to develop into viable babies than humans did, but in Asgore’s opinion, it was for the better. Longer time to develop meant more care was going into it, right? Less mistakes. And his child had no physical flaws. Asriel was a beautiful boy. Well, maybe one flaw. Asgore would forever curse himself for his naming ability. It would never improve, it seemed. Asgore and Toriel made Asriel, right? He thought it was cute, anyway. And Toriel seemed to agree, so there was no harm in it.

The child took an immediate liking to green and yellow. Strange. You would think that he would be too young to form any sort of emotional attachment to anything, but the proof was in the pudding. Soon, his entire room in the castle was decked in green and yellow. His white fur was kept pristine at all times, though that proved to be a difficult task to accomplish.

He threw his food everywhere around the house. Everywhere except his mouth, that is. They refused to hire any maids or nannies (this was _their_ child), so all messes were under their jurisdiction.

At night, when everything was calm, and peaceful, the modest family would gather around the fire, and lay at the foot of a recliner where Toriel sat. Asriel would sit and babble in his father’s lap, and Toriel would hum, softly withdrawing a book from one of their shelves, and flip through the pages, looking for a suitable story. 

Then she would find one, clear her throat, and begin. Her voice was smooth as silk, and had a cadence to it. When Asgore listened to it, he found himself entranced, never wanting it to stop. _Stars_ he loved that woman. 

It never mattered what the story was about. It could have been entirely about snails for all he cared (in fact, he thought it _had_ been once), he just wanted to listen. More than once he found himself falling asleep, the warmth of the fire and softness of her voice lulling him into a blissful stupor. Then she would close the book, pick up Asriel, place him in his crib, and return to Asgore. 

If he was asleep, she would merely curl up next to him, content to doze off by the fire. If he wasn’t, they would head to their bedroom to sleep. It never particularly mattered to them.

Life was perfect for the Dreemurrs.

 

Then, one night, in Gaster’s lab, the scientist came up with an idea.


	4. Spooky Scary Skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your favorite brothers are created, fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and criticize

The royal scientist was not a stupid man. He knew his plan had little to no chance of success. He knew what he was doing was probably morally wrong. He knew he was damaging himself in a way no one else had ever done. And he knew that it would help. He _had_ to try. The king had entrusted him with the responsibility.

So that’s why on one dark night, while the Dreemurr family was sleeping in New Home, Gaster snuck back into his lab and began to work. Calculations filled page after page, notebook after notebook. It had to go perfectly. If anything went wrong… he didn’t want to think about what would happen to him.

Two weeks later, he finally built his machine. It was gorgeous. Sleek and shiny and cold, when he ran his phalanges over its surface. He needed to see if he could create a monster SOUL, then maybe a human one. More manpower was always a good thing. And though he wouldn’t admit it, it would give him the child he could no longer have naturally. A skeleton, like himself. All skeletons had been killed in The War, targeted because of his foolishness. He never got over the guilt.

So that’s why in the dead of what would surely be winter on the Surface, he sat by his machine, and carefully extracted his SOUL from his body, pushing it into the aperture that his machine would open every time he drew near.

Gaster looked into the little window that showed what was happening to his SOUL. All appeared to be going normally. His SOUL was emitting a ghostly white fog now, mixing with a red chemical gas the machine was releasing. It actually felt kind of nice, like cold water rushing over his entire being.

Then it started.

The chamber began to heat up, slowly changing the gasses in the chamber to a striking yellow. It burned, oh _stars_ , it burned. His SOUL sent hot, shocking pains into his body, and the scientist yelped, jumping away instinctively, though it wouldn’t do much. 

The machine sent white hot lasers, made from pure determination extracted from his SOUL by the gasses before, into his SOUL. Gaster screamed, screamed so loudly he thought his skull would shatter from it. At least the extraction worked. He still had leftover determination from his absorption of that human child’s SOUL.

The sound echoed in the large room, amplified by the whirring sounds the machine was producing. He was very glad he had opted for a sound-proof lab for this experiment. 

The machine was cutting nearly halfway into the small heart-shaped SOUL, and the royal scientist was ready to pass out. He was gripping the arms to his chair so tightly that the fabric was pulling away from the metal. His screams had stopped now, the pain so intense that he couldn’t produce any sound. His breath stuttered in his throat.

His SOUL looked as if it was melting, dripping slightly on the edges. He wondered if determination had something to do with it. Or perhaps the heat of the chamber. His thoughts were disturbed by another knife-sharp pain from his SOUL, begging him to cease his current actions. He ignored it. He felt something dripping down his leg.

It was him. He was dripping down his leg.

The process was almost complete. His SOUL was hanging on by a single gooey thread. Then, finally, it was cut, producing a scream from the scientist that probably broke several glasses.

The gasses were immediately sucked out of the chamber, and Gaster stopped melting, panting heavily. His body didn’t pop back into its original shape— his SOUL still looked drippy, though it no longer had a liquidy texture, and he still had melted parts of himself on his legs (those would probably never come off), but he was alive.

He pulled at his SOUL, and to his surprise, only the top half of his SOUL followed. He had assumed the whole thing would have remained connected to him, but it seemed the bottom half was its own being now. Curious.

With his remaining SOUL safely out of the chamber, he started the machine up again, producing more determination gas to keep the second half stabilized. If he could keep it from shattering for a month or so, it would be guaranteed to form a body around itself. It would take less time to become a person than monsters usually took in creation. Normally, monsters don’t have a SOUL to begin with, that takes all but a month of their two-year gestation. The body itself quickly formed.

He couldn’t do it again. He had originally planned to create two, but he would surely be dust if he performed the operation again.

The bisected SOUL looked to be stable. He huffed a sigh of relief, followed by a wince, as his entire body screamed in protest of the small movement. He didn’t blame it. That was a procedure no one had ever attempted before. Cutting off even a small part of a SOUL sounded traumatic, and didn’t compare to how it felt, like hot magma pouring over you, and hot knives slicing you into pieces, into thousandths. It had felt like eternity.

He looked at the SOUL again. It seemed to be taking on its color shade. Already? Human SOULs were vibrant, brightly displaying their personality trait. Monster SOULs, however, were more subtle. They still would appear white to the untrained eye, but if one looked closely, and knew what they were looking for, they could see that it was slightly stained one color or another, just barely visibly.

The SOUL appeared to be taking on a cyan shade. The monster would be patient. It was surprising that it wasn’t a more purple tinge, perseverance, like Gaster’s own.

Exhaustion overwhelmed the scientist all at once, and his skull dipped down towards the floor. That wasn’t good. The movement caused the obvious wave of extreme pain, which nearly knocked him out by itself.

He needed to sleep. He could come back in the morning. The determination should keep the SOUL stable as he slept. The circumstances of its separation would also protect it from melting, if that was in fact what had caused it to happen in the first place. The SOUL was completely independent, strengthened by its separation. It could theoretically withstand more determination than the average monster’s, though most likely not as much as a human could. He pressed a button to send it in a controlled tube outside the medical facility, in case it needed to be close to him.

He reached the medical ward of his lab, and flung himself down on a cot. The pain was numbed, now, overwhelmed by exhaustion, and having already tormented him on his walk. He fell asleep practically before his head hit the pillow. 

 

-

 

He woke up in the morning to the sound of tapping on glass. Light, pinging noises, like something with a sleek surface was the culprit. Confused and drowsy, Gaster sat up in his cot, wincing at the abrupt popping of bone, and sharp bursts of pain created by his actions. 

He raised a holed hand to his head. What time was it? Looking towards a green display on the wall, he saw he had slept a day and a half. Good thing it was a weekend, or his coworkers would have found the SOUL.

The tapping continued. Bewildered, the skeleton stood up, bones creaking as he did. Stars, he sounded like oldbones.

He padded to the tube that had been transferred outside the room, then stopped in shock. There was a skeleton monster in the tube. A baby skeleton monster. With half a SOUL. A slightly-blue-tinged SOUL. 

“Excuse my language,” Gaster said to no one in particular, except maybe the child, “but what the _fuck_?”

It was still tapping on the glass, but the scientist paid that part no mind. He instead turned his attention to an attached display on the side of the tube. The child looked… remarkably stable. He chalked his accelerated growth and stability up to the determination it had been brewing in all night. 

He touched his chin in thought, but jumped when the child moved to do the same. Interesting. He should test this. He reached out and placed a hand to the glass. He could see his child’s hand through the hole in his own, pressed up to meet it almost instantaneously. The child seemed to be intelligent. Monster children developed quickly, gaining the ability to speak coherent sentences by around their first year, but this one seemed particularly quick. 

Since the child was stable, it wouldn’t hurt to take them out of the tube, and he did so, cradling the infant carefully. White eyelights in the child’s dark sockets met his own eyelights, then left as quickly as it had arrived. They moved to dart around the room. Chair, tube, Gaster, floor, bulletin board, door, Gaster, pen, Gaster, hand, Gaster. Then stopped. 

“Goo.”

That nearly had him drop the child right then and there. Thankfully, he didn’t, but stood in shock. They shouldn’t be able to do that. Of course, the child shouldn’t even have a body yet, so it didn’t shock him as much as finding him had. Gaster realized that he had just thought “he” and wondered when he had figured out the sex of the child. He supposed the bones appeared to be structured for a male, his deduction must have been subconscious. It made sense, Gaster was male, and the child was made from his own SOUL.

He wasn’t prepared for this. He had thought he would have at least a month. Now he would have to explain to the king how he had acquired a child overnight. That sounded about as fun as sticking his SOUL back into that machine and leaving it there for a couple days. 

Well, he supposed he should get it over with.

 

Asgore took it just as expected.

“Oh my stars, he’s adorable! Look at the little feet! He does need clothes, though.” Asgore was in love already.

“Yes, about that… I didn’t know he would form so quickly. I… do not have any,” Gaster admitted, scratching the back of his skull as the king cradled the skeleton’s son.

“Well, Asriel is only a couple months or so older than your little one here! You can have his old clothes that he has grown out of, if you do not have any at the moment.” Asgore turned his attention back to the child, coddling him and making faces like before.

“Sire.” Gaster tried to snap the king out of his revery.

“Yes?” The king was still playing with the child, not looking away.

Gaster sighed, giving in to the fact that the king was obsessed with babies. Asriel was still the only thing the man talked about, aside from how much he loved his wife.

He couldn’t deny the fact that he felt better though.

 

-

 

Almost a year later, Gaster was ready to try again. His child, named Sans to continue the skeleton tradition of font-related names, had been speaking sentences since around halfway through his first year. Remarkable.

“I’m getting a bro-brother?” He had asked. Gaster was sure that the sex would still be male, due to the origin of their SOULs, and had told Sans such.

“Yes.” Gaster smiled. Sans had been talking nonstop about it for ages, and the scientist had finally agreed. He couldn’t say no to that face. He wasn’t sure how he would do it, however. SOULs regenerated as long as at least 26% of the original magic was still present, so he and Sans had both grown the rest of their SOULs back. By all means, he should be able to create another child with the regenerated SOUL, but readings taken had shown that it wouldn’t be wise. The regrown areas were fragile, energy readings fluctuating wildly. No. Any child created using it would most likely die soon after creation, if the process didn’t kill him.

It was one desperate night that he had thought of a solution. He had plenty of magic to use. It wasn’t necessarily his, but… His hand drifted near his side, before flinching back up. He couldn’t. It would be an insult to him. But then again…

Before he could change his mind, he tore the red bundle he carried with him at all times away from his belt. Arial would want to go towards this, he knew it. Magic was magic, and stability was what was important. Dust was perfectly stable, and perhaps if Gaster used less of his SOUL this time, the original part of his SOUL, and bound the combination with determination, he could do it. 

He got to work.

 

It worked. The child took longer to form this time, and longer to stabilize, but it worked. Sans suggested a name for him. Papyrus. Seemed as good a name as any, and stayed true to the font-naming tradition. The kid took an immediate liking to the red scarf Arial’s dust had been kept in. Interesting. The dust had spent over two hundred years in there. He supposed it was only natural, but he definitely wanted to wash it before giving it to Papyrus. There was still dust residue on it, and though the child was made of the stuff, that would be… creepy.

Sans seemed happy. He and Papyrus were inseparable. For the most part, Papyrus seemed to have the same fast learning curve as Sans, which was a blessing. While he wasn’t even close to speech yet, it seemed he could at least understand all that happened around him.

Wherever Papyrus crawled, inevitably one would see Sans walk just behind him. It was mildly entertaining, but also quite heartwarming. And also a relief. If he had disliked the child, then he would have desecrated Arial’s remains for nothing, but luckily, Sans seemed to adore him.

All was well.


	5. Monster Children Are Adorable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little monster children, life is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and criticism are appreciated.

The Underground felt alive again. The fact that even the reclusive royal scientist was starting a family was inspiring. A whole new wave of children were born in the years following. These children were stronger and more acted more persevering than their predecessors, so when a small monster girl came to New Home, and challenged the King to a fight, the King knew what to do. The kid was tenacious, and hotheaded, sure, but with the right training, she would do well.

He was even more convinced to train her once Gaster urged him to, and specifically to be the captain of the Royal Guard. He had said that the girl’s SOUL was different, and strange for a monster. It faintly shined the color red, a color no other monster had shined before. She was determined, more so than anyone else underground. She would be a perfect successor to the current Head of the Royal Guard. 

Asgore then took her in as a pseudo-daughter. The girl, who he came to know what named Undyne, had no parents of her own, and lived in the orphanage in the Ruins. If not for her desire to stay and protect the other children from their own bullies, she probably would have moved to the castle altogether. She already spent more time at New Home than the Ruins anyway.

Asgore mused that now both he and his friend had two children, but he knew the royal scientist would scoff at that. Gaster never _did_ like admitting the fact that adopted family members were the same as blood relatives, for some reason. 

Gaster’s children were absolutely _adorable_. Created a year apart, the younger was quickly surpassing his brother in height, already an inch taller, ridiculously. The older of the two was very quiet, but that changed when the King gifted him a joke book to help him socially. Now, all he ever did was tell bad puns. Toriel loved them, and in extension, the child. On play dates, the younger sibling, Papyrus, would often be the only one playing, while Sans would be in the corner with Toriel, cracking up in laughter. She seemed to be conflicted on whether or not to force him to play with the others. 

Papyrus hated the jokes, and it rattled every bone in his little body whenever he was in the vicinity of these sessions. That was _hilarious_. Poor little thing, in his long red scarf. It almost looked like Gaster’s old scarf, but that was impossible. The oldbones would never let it off his hip. He cast the thought from his mind.

 

Asriel was lonely. Papyrus and Undyne were clearly more interested in playing games with each other than with him. After a short while, Asriel was left out of more and more games, until he was almost always coloring by himself. 

Asgore wished Asriel had a friend, a _true_ friend. But it wasn’t like best friends just fell from the sky, did they? He supposed that children were probably intimidated by the little guy. Being friends with the prince came with immense pressure. 

Kids scattered when he approached. He was always so confused, and his ears drooped some. That was life for the prince in his young years of existence. He seemed to somewhat enjoy the family walk of the Underground, however. 

Because Asriel hated being cooped up in New Home, Toriel decided that as a family they would walk throughout the entire Underground once a month. Though the number of people talking to Asriel didn’t increase, the exercise and sense of exploration was helpful for the poor boy.

 

Toriel set up a school for the rapidly increasing number of monster children around Asriel’s sixth year. Before Asriel’s birth, the population’s growth rate was low enough that they didn’t need a school, but the spike in number of children justified its construction. What was mildly amusing was that Toriel seemed reluctant to hand over teaching positions to anyone other than herself. She always _had_ wanted to be a teacher. She reluctantly resolved to stay as just the queen, as teaching would distract from her duties.

School suited Sans, who was remarkably quick. He had a natural affinity for all subjects, particularly math and science. The one subject he _didn’t_ seem to excel at was art, unsurprisingly. In contrast, Papyrus’s _best_ subject was art, as well as English, while he was falling behind in math and science. Despite Sans’ best attempts to help him, he couldn’t seem to understand most of the subject matter. His father seemed unable to help his understanding of the subject either.

It was a shame, really. The kid had no lack of enthusiasm towards learning, he just didn’t get it. Asgore found himself signing a waiver at the end of each school year for the boy, allowing him to continue to the next grade level despite consistently failing his math classes. It wouldn’t be fair to hold him back. Some people just didn’t understand those subjects, and that was okay.

 

Sans and Papyrus adored Snowdin Town. In their first few years of existence, around five or so, they had lived in the laboratory, in order to more easily monitor their growth and to make sure nothing bad happened with their development. If a crisis emerged whilst they were all in Snowdin, there would be no time to rush them to the lab. When they were told that they could move in with their father, they were ecstatic.

Snowdin was cold, though it mostly just felt pleasantly cool to them, and much preferable to the heat they had spent their formative years in. Though they couldn’t much feel the heat either, the area still felt like a wet blanket draped over them, and was mildly uncomfortable. The cold of Snowdin was a pleasant change.

They lived like a family, and Asgore visited them from time to time, sometimes with Asriel in tow, and occasionally Undyne. Asriel normally played with them at these times, but friendship never really stuck. Papyrus and Undyne, however, were a different story.

Those two stuck together like glue. After being regaled with tales of Undyne’s training, Papyrus resolved that he wanted to be strong, too. Asgore may have considered it, but received a firm “no” from Gaster. He didn’t want to risk injury, and make all his trials be for nothing.

Life was good, and life was peaceful. Until around Asriel’s twelfth year, nothing changed.


End file.
